Lonesome Dove

A lonesome dove, perched atop bare branches
Brittle leaves scattered, filling grassless patches
Puddles dot the ground, reflecting stars from above
The dove, sings songs of love
He puffs his chest, his beak points to the moon
He serenades, in hopes to swoon
When sunlit days appear, more and more
The smell of spring, hard to ignore
Desire doesn’t play fair
When desire fills the air
He’s out to snatch, he’s out to lure
His plume perfumed with allure
He breathes a tune, repeating it twice
Then listens without a reply, frozen like ice
The cold of silence, breaking his heart
He tries again then sets to part
To search for springs love
The object of his desire, another lonesome dove

7 thoughts on “Lonesome Dove”

How beautiful, Ax! May he hear her return reply soon. Maybe he needs to fly to a different branch.
I love the Osho quote. Reminds me of a post I read today that I’ll probably Reblog about rotten trees. Sounds contradictory…when I post it, you’ll see. ❤️

“The only real revolution is in the enlightenment of the mind and the improvement of character, the only real emancipation is individual, and the only real revolutionaries are philosophers and saints.” — Will Durant